


out of the blue

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He's scared, because a gun is pressed up to his head and he's at the mercy of a man with an eye for money and no conscience to stop himself.But what scares him more is that he kind of wants him to pull the trigger, just to see what would happen.OR: Unsolved is being canceled, Shane and Ryan are drifting apart, and Ryan doesn't know what to do.





	1. floating in between

It's not like Ryan didn't see this coming.

He's seen the views. They're barely scraping by at this point, not even reaching half a million by the end of the week when it used to take only a day.

He knew that the show wasn't going to last much longer, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Even if it was the one thing he's been working for since he first got promoted from an intern to a full-time employee. Even if it was the one thing he's wanted since he was just a film student in college ten years ago.

He's not the least bit surprised when the producers plop a short stack of papers onto his desk that morning, and he promptly scans over the first page, only to be informed that Unsolved will be canceled when they wrap up filming for the fifth season of True Crime.

Or not. If they can get the views up by then, at least.

But what chance does he have? It's not like he can control what people watch, and no one watches Unsolved anymore. The show was just a fad. It's served its time. What can he do about that?

He stares blankly at the sheet of paper in his hand, keeping his eyes focused on the word 'canceled' as he fights the tears that make their way up.

Two more weeks, and the show will be put to rest.

A copy of the same sheet emerges beside his, and in the corner of his eye he sees Shane's hand attached to it, then hears his voice from behind.

"Guess it's over, huh?" he says.

Ryan doesn't respond. He's too fixated on the words on his paper.

"I'm really sorry, man," Shane continues, resting a comforting hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "I know how much this show meant to you."

Ryan blinks away his tears, finally setting the piece of paper down on his desk. "Yeah," he says quietly, because there's nothing more to say, and Shane pats him on the back before walking to his desk on the other side of the building.

Ryan _thought_ that Shane would be at least a _little_ devastated about their show coming to an end, because, after all, they've been doing it together for three years now. But the tone in his voice sounded more pitiful than anything.

And Ryan can't blame him. Shane's got his own projects to care more about now, like Ruining History, which has been wildly successful since the first episode came out a year ago. And Ryan's happy for him, he really is, because his friend is more than deserving of his newfound fame. He just can't help but feel like he's being left in the dust.

They hardly talk anymore. Ryan doesn't know why, or when, or how it happened. How Shane has become more of an acquaintance to him than a friend.

Sometimes he'll wave to Shane when they pass in the hallway on his way to the break room, and sometimes Shane will wave back, though not much goes beyond that.

And Shane doesn't hate him, at least that Ryan knows of. Ryan doesn't think he's done anything wrong. He just has to accept that sometimes these things happen, that sometimes friends just move on, part ways.

And he has to pretend it doesn't hurt him.

Ryan folds his arms on his desk, hiding his face in them as tears begin rolling down his cheeks. He wills his body not to shake, tries to keep quiet so as not to let anyone in the office know he's crying.

Maybe this is why the show hasn't been doing well.

Maybe the viewers take notice every time Shane doesn't look up from his lap, doesn't bother to look Ryan in the eye, looks like he doesn't even want to  _be_  there. Maybe they notice how the banter has lost its flavor. It doesn't have that same energy, that _passion_ that it once burned with.

The chemistry just isn't there anymore.

And it's no one's fault, Ryan knows this, but he wants to put the blame on himself, because at least then he'd know he could fix this. Like maybe he just wasn't trying hard enough, and he just needed to put more effort into his work. But he can't, because it really is  _no one's fault._

He doesn't think he can make it through the rest of the day, but he's still got a seven-hour shift, so he wipes the tears from his eyes, sits up, and stands from his chair to head toward the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Sara is there. She's scrolling through her phone as she takes sips from her mug, and she laughs at something on the screen until she looks up and sees Ryan walk in, and her smile immediately falls.

She has to notice how pink Ryan's nose is, and how wet his eyes look, because her mouth goes slack as she sets her phone on the counter, giving Ryan her full attention.

"Oh, god, Ryan," she says. "Are you okay?"

Ryan takes a deep breath as he opens a cabinet, taking out a white mug. "Do I _look_ okay?" he snaps, and  _yikes._ He shakes his head. He really needs this cup of coffee.

"No, you _don't_ look okay," Sara replies, furrowing her eyebrows as she takes a seat on one of the tall chairs behind the island. "You don't  _seem_  okay either. Is something wrong?"

" _Everything's_ wrong." Ryan slams the cabinet shut with an exasperated sigh, throwing the mug onto the counter. He runs his hands through his hair, then turns to face Sara. "They're cancelling Unsolved."

" _What!?"_

Ryan forces a laugh when he feels tears begin to prick at his eyes again. "Said the views aren't enough. We're putting more money into the show than we're getting back."

"That's bullshit!" Sara yells.

"No, it's true," Ryan corrects, then turns back around to face the coffee machine as he lifts his mug and fills it. "And it's not the producers' fault. I mean, hell, the views have dropped by _millions._ But I just..." He pauses, stirring the liquid drink in his mug. "I just wish I could do something about it."

"Then why don't you?" Sara asks. "You should just march up to the producers' office and tell them that, if they don't let you continue this show, you'll never show your face in this building again!"

Ryan almost chokes on his coffee as he takes a sip. "Christ. I can't risk my job, Sara."

"Then I'll get Shane to do it."

" _Shane?"_ Ryan's mouth pulls into a frown, because the mere mention of his co-host's name tugs at his heartstrings. God, he's losing it. He hangs his head down, staring down at the coffee in his mug. "Shane doesn't care about this show."

"What do you mean he doesn't care?" Sara says, chuckling dryly. "I've seen him in the videos. He has the time of his life doing the show with you!"

"Where have you _been_ the last few seasons?" Ryan practically spits, and he flips around to meet Sara's eyes again. "Face it. He's just not into it anymore." He sighs. "I mean, I don't think he really  _wants_ to be on the show anyway. But I wouldn't know." He looks at the floor. "We don't... we don't really talk much."

Sara's mouth goes agape. "Oh. Shit, I-I didn't know," she says, and a look of sorrow flickers on her face. "I just... did something happen between you guys? I thought you were, like, best friends."

Ryan shrugs, then walks over to the chair across from Sara, sitting down and setting his mug on the island. "Guess we've just grown apart." He plays with the plastic straw in his drink, and there's a glazed look in his eyes.

"Well, you still have time to rekindle that friendship, you know. Don't give up too easily." Sara offers a fake smile, but Ryan doesn't buy it.

"Everything's falling apart," he says. "I've lost the one thing I had going for me, this fucking show that I've put all this time and work into..." Ryan fiddles with his mug, choking back his tears. "And now I'm losing my best friend."

Sara sees that Ryan's shoulders have begun to shake, so she says, "Hey," and reaches her hand out to rest on top of Ryan's, then says, "Look on the bright side. You still have Helen."

Ryan gives a half-hearted smile as he lets the sobs wrack through his body.

Of course Ryan loves his girlfriend. Why wouldn't he? Helen's everything he could ever want in a woman. She's smart, she's beautiful. She takes care of him. And Ryan's grateful for her, he truly is, because at the end of the day, she's there for him.

She's all he's got.

But there will always be this thought at the back of his mind, like there's just something that she can't give him. Can  _never_  give him. And it haunts him, because it's something he can never have.

Not anymore.

He barely sees Shane walking past the entrance to the kitchen through the blurriness in his vision, but he knows it's him. Shane catches Ryan's eyes, and he frowns. Ryan prays he'll come in, sit down. Just _talk_ to him.

But he looks down, then turns away, and he keeps walking.

Sara is called minutes later by one of her colleagues to help with printing, and Ryan sighs as he takes out his phone to text his girlfriend.

-

Ryan pulls his coat tighter to his chest as he's blown further ahead, and he shivers in the cold, harsh wind.

He usually hates taking these late-night walks back to his house, after the bus has dropped him off at the station and he's left to venture alone in his neighborhood. Left to his own devices. It takes him to dark places in his mind, parts he didn't even know he had, and it makes him paranoid, makes him start looking around every corner, fearing some vicious murderer will just attack him right then and there. Mutilate his body and never be found.

Tonight, however, he sort of _hopes_ someone will kill him. Hopes someone will do him the favor and just end his misery.

Not that he has, by any means, suicidal thoughts. Passive suicidal ideation, maybe. He'd stumbled upon articles about that particular concept when he was researching the suicide of Kurt Cobain one night after falling into a rut of conspiracy videos. Maybe one day the universe will choose to take him too, and Ryan Bergara will be no more.

He makes it to his house, stepping up the steps of his front porch, and he knocks on his door. Helen barely opens it before Ryan's bursting into tears, and neither say anything when he launches himself into her arms, hiding his face in the crevice of her shoulder as he lets out whimpers.

Helen doesn't even react. She just runs a hand up and down his back to comfort him, because she knows Ryan gets like this when he has especially hard days, and today was definitely no exception.

The door is still wide open, so Helen pulls away for a moment to close it, then turns back to her boyfriend, grabbing his hand to lead him to their couch. "Ryan, we need to talk."

A million thoughts have already begun running through Ryan's mind.

_Is she gonna break up with me?_

_Is she gonna leave me?_

_Am I gonna be alone for the rest of my life?_

They sit, Ryan's hand still in Helen's as she looks him dead in the eye. "I got a job offer," she says after a short silence, and relief washes over Ryan.

"Oh, honey, that's great-"

"In Miami."

Ryan's heart stops.

"What?" he says.

Helen lets go of Ryan's hand, choosing to fold her hands in her lap as she clears her throat. "It pays well," she continues. "And they want me to be there in three weeks, so we'll need to pa-"

"Whoah, whoah, whoah," Ryan cuts her off, shaking his head in disbelief. "What about my  _job?"_

"See, that's the thing," Helen starts again. "When you texted me that Unsolved was being canceled, I knew that I had to take this offer-"

"Do you know how hard I've worked to get this far? I can't just pack it up, move to Miami, and get myself a new job-"

"And you won't have to!" Helen interrupts. "This is an opportunity for us, Ryan. For our future. This job pays well enough to support us both, babe. You won't even  _need_  to work."

Ryan rests his elbows on his lap, hiding his face in his hands. "This is... this is a lot."

Helen sighs. "I know it's a lot, baby. And it's gonna be hard." She uncovers Ryan's face, taking his hand in hers again. "We'll have to start over. Meet new people, leave old friends behind..."

Ryan's heart skips a beat at her last words, and he thinks of Shane, and suddenly everything is much, much worse. "I don't know if I can-"

"Ryan, I'm taking this job," Helen says firmly. "I'm leaving in three weeks. You can either come with me or stay here. It's your choice."

Ryan swallows hard. "I just... I need time. To-to think about this."

"You can take all the time you need," Helen assures him, patting his knee. "But make up your mind soon, okay? We really need to start packing, you know."

Ryan nods, and Helen stands to walk upstairs to her bedroom, and Ryan is left alone on the couch in their living room to stare into space.

-

They're having technical difficulties with the camera, and the crew keeps promising they'll have it working in a few minutes, but Ryan isn't even in the mood today. He wants to have fun with the last few episodes of True Crime, because they are, after all, the last that will ever be filmed, but that's exactly  _why_  it won't be enjoyable for him. With the knowledge that this will be the last time he'll ever sit in this exact chair, seated at this exact table, in front of this exact camera, he doesn't think he'll even make it to the end before he starts bawling. 

Later tonight they'll be flying out to New York City to film the last two episodes: _The Mysterious Murder of Mary Cecilia Rogers_ and  _The Gruesome Murder of Abe Lebewohl._ And, don't get him wrong, he loves the idea. It's the perfect way to tie the show together after all these years, after the two unsolved murders have been requested so many times by the diehard fans. But a part of him is gonna miss the set for True Crime, regardless of how uncomfortably rock-hard the wooden chair he's sitting in is.

Shane is sat beside him, and, surprise surprise, he's on his phone again.

"Camera's back to working!" TJ shouts, and Ryan glances up at him. "Shane, put your phone away! Try to look at least a little interested, will ya?"

Shane sighs and rolls his eyes, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and leaning back in his chair as he looks ahead, and TJ calls out, "In five, four, three, two..." and trails off as he presses play.

Ryan goes over the unsolved murder case he'd done thorough research on a week ago, and, for the rest of the episode, he tries to keep his composure. Shane looks bored out of his mind, tired even, and Ryan can't blame him. He hasn't been getting much sleep himself, not with all that's been on his mind.

Shane doesn't stop him to comment on anything except to say that the theories he presents near the end about aliens and zombies are stupid, but that's it. And, okay, Ryan's a little disappointed, because Shane doesn't even make an effort to make the episode a little more entertaining, but he won't push it. He'd rather have no banter at all than banter that seemed forced.

He concludes the episode. No jokes, no laughter, nothing. Another boring episode this season, and now Ryan thinks he gets it. This is why the show is ending, and, if he's honest with himself, it's the right thing to do. It's time to bury Unsolved in its grave, because, if they kept it going for any longer, that would just be beating a dead horse.

The camera crew tells Ryan how good the episode they filmed is, how it's one of their best, but Ryan knows they're just trying to make him feel better. Shane stands from his chair and stretches, then begins walking away before Ryan reaches out his hand and says "hey," and Shane turns around.

"Do you think maybe- do you wanna, like, hang out later?" Ryan stutters out. "Maybe go out for, like, a drink or something? You know, before we fly out to New York."

Ryan knows his smile probably looks awkward as he watches Shane blink a few times, and then Shane mumbles, "Yeah, maybe."

Ryan pumps his fist in the air when he sees that Shane isn't looking, and Shane walks out of the building. Most of the crew leave with him, only a few staying behind to finish packing up. Ryan stays seated in his chair, and he props his head up with his hand as he takes out his phone to text Sara to meet him at the bar this evening.

- 

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do, Sara."

Ryan takes another drink of his beer, wiping his mouth after with his sleeve.

The two of them sit at the bar, two orders of beer on the countertop, and Ryan absently watches a football game on the small TV in front of him.

Sara types away at her phone as she takes a few sips of her drink, and she doesn't look up at Ryan when he continues their one-sided conversation.

"Helen leaves for Miami in three weeks, and I don't want to quit the show before finishing the season, but... at this point I might as well."

Sara's head finally shoots up to look at him. "You can't quit now! You only have two episodes left to film, Ryan."

Ryan plays with the glass in his hand. "I don't know... I'm gonna be in New York for two weeks, and Helen wants me to stay and help her pack. Help with the move. Maybe I shouldn't go-"

"Ryan."

Ryan closes his mouth shut and looks over to Sara, and she rests her hand on his arm.

"You'll have plenty of time to help her when you get back," she says. "Just... go to New York, okay? End this show with a  _bang!"_

Ryan sighs. "You're right. Unsolved isn't gonna be renewed for another season, so I guess... I guess I'll just have to make these last episodes some fucking good ones."

"That's the spirit!" Sara exclaims, lifting her drink, and Ryan follows suit, and they clink their glasses together before gulping down their beers.

Sara exhales as she puts her glass down, then she turns to Ryan and furrows her eyebrows. "Hey, wasn't Shane supposed to meet us here before you guys head to New York?"

Ryan sets his drink down and scratches the back of his head. "Yeah. I mean, I asked him if he wanted to come, but... guess he just had other plans."

Sara stares at him for a bit long before she gets a text, and Ryan peers over her shoulder to see that it's from Shane.

_From Shane at 7:55 PM: look outside_

The two swivel in their seats to see Shane standing outside, who taps on the window and waves at Sara, and Sara waves back, then motions for Ryan to come outside with her.

Ryan warms his hands in the pockets of his brown jacket as he steps out the door and into the cool, winter air, and he watches from aside as Shane immediately embraces Sara in a hug. She tucks her head in his chest, and Shane smooths over her hair.

"It'll just be two weeks," he says, holding her freezing-cold hands in his warm ones.

Sara pouts her lips as she swings her foot forward in the snow. "Two weeks is too long," she whines.

Ryan realizes he probably looks awkward just standing there and watching them, but he can't help but think of how Helen never gave him a proper goodbye hug like that, and he feels a pang at his heart when he sees the way Shane looks at his girlfriend.

They pull away, and Shane catches Ryan staring, so Ryan shifts his eyes toward the taxi at his right side, which still has its engine running, and he knows the taxi driver is probably anxiously waiting for them to get in so they can drive off to the airport.

Ryan looks back at Shane and sees him head for the cab, but not before telling Sara he'll FaceTime her in the morning, and she smiles at him and says goodbye as Shane and Ryan climb into the backseat. Ryan is sat on the right seat behind the driver, while Shane is sat on his far left with the window rolled down as he and Sara shout goodbye back and forth five more times, then laugh like complete maniacs. Shane is still laughing when he rolls his window up, then his smile falters when he looks over to Ryan only to catch him staring again, and Ryan quickly looks away, flushing red as he pulls out his phone, and Shane does the same.

They don't talk for the whole ride. 

-

"We'll be landing in New York City in five minutes, so sit tight in your seats and make sure that your seat belt is on at all times. Thank you."

The speaker in the airplane clicks off, and Ryan turns to Shane and taps him lightly on the shoulder, and Shane grumbles, taking out his earbuds to whisper, "what?"

Ryan fiddles nervously with his thumbs. "Just... TJ told me we should film our intro before we go to the hotel, so... I mean, unless you're tired, then- then I understand."

Shane stares at him weirdly, then puts his earbud back in. "Whatever," he says through a yawn, and Ryan looks away and sighs.

When they land, the two stand to get their luggage down, and they walk steadily in the crowd of people before making their way down the walkway to the airport.

TJ is far ahead of them, and they meet him at the exit. "Okay, boys. Get your bags, and let's get in the cab."

Ryan and Shane stroll their luggage along as they walk behind TJ and out of the airport, then pack away all of their bags and equipment inside the trunk of the taxi cab before getting in.

Shane yawns again, and Ryan feels just as tired as him, but he wants to get a couple shots while it's dark out, so he rubs his eyes and tries to make conversation with his friend to keep himself awake.

"So... we'll be going to this old building that used to be a tobacco shop. You know, where Mary Rogers worked," he explains to Shane, biting his lip in anticipation for his response.

Shane leans his head on the window beside him, which has to be freezing, but he looks so tired that it must not bother him. "Who's Mary Rogers?"

Ryan goes silent for a moment. "The... the woman who was murdered. The case we're gonna be investigating," he replies, staring at Shane with a dumbfounded expression. "I told you this."

"Oh. Right," Shane says, bringing his hands up for his head to rest on and closing his eyes.

Ryan looks down at the handle of his luggage that sits in his hand, cold in his tight grip. "Right," he repeats.

They arrive at their destination, and TJ is the first to open his door and climb out with his camera in hand, and Ryan gestures for Shane to come on out.

Shane sluggishly opens his car door, and the taxi driver stays parked on the curb.

"Alright, boys. I need you to stand right there, and... perfect," TJ says, giving a thumbs up. Ryan and Shane stand right in front of an old building lit only by the amber streetlights, and Ryan fakes a smile for the camera, while Shane looks at the ground, barely paying any attention to what's going on around him. TJ signals with the flick of his finger when he turns the camera on, and Ryan gives his introduction.

"This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we investigate the mystery behind the murder of Mary Cecilia Rogers. I'm joined here with Shane standing in front of what once was the tobacco shop where Mary herself used to work, back in 1838, in the bustling streets of New York City," he says.

TJ pans his camera on them as they begin to walk down the street, and Ryan talks to Shane about how scared he feels to be out here, and how gruesome the murder was, and Shane only responds with a couple "mhm"'s and "yeah"'s, and Ryan wishes Shane would say something funny, or at least provide some kind of banter, because he wants this episode to be a good one. But he knows that Shane doesn't care, that he doesn't even want to be here right now with Ryan in New York City. He knows Shane is only showing up for that sweet, sweet paycheck, and the knowledge of that tugs at his heart.

After they finish recording, they climb back into the cab and drive off to the hotel without another word.

-

Ryan watches the footage back as he sits alone in the dark on the bed of his hotel room. He watches and sees how fake they both seem, how fake his own smile is and how Shane tries his best to look interested but nearly fails.

He replays it in his head later that night as he stares up at his ceiling fan, then he pauses it, rewinds it, and he's taken back to memories from a year ago. His mind floods with images of Shane, when they'd ended up laughing on his couch while they drank and talked about the dumbest shit they could think of, sitting way too close for comfort, and their hands touching when they'd reach for the same bottle of liquor, and lingering there for seconds too long, and then just  _looking at each other._

And it was like, maybe this could really be something. Something that they _both_ wanted, and Ryan had considered a million times what would happen if he just opened his mouth and let all of the words he kept locked away in his heart come tumbling out, what would happen if he stopped holding back, and just took the opportunity to lean in and bring their lips together, bring an end to the tension that constantly swirled around them. 

But he didn't.

He knew not to cross the imaginary line they'd drawn between each other, to never ask _what are we_  or _what could we be._ It would have only ruined what they already had. So he'd look away, and so would Shane, and that was it.

And he wonders,  _what went wrong?_


	2. it all comes out

He wakes up to the sound of laughter coming from behind the walls, in the room he knows Shane is staying in.

He hears Sara giggling about a funny movie she saw last night, and then Shane saying he wishes he had been there to see it with her.

Ryan lies still in bed as he eavesdrops into their little morning conversation, until his phone buzzes on the nightstand beside him.

He reaches over for it, then glances at the name lit up on his screen.

Helen.

He answers it and holds it up to his ear, and he doesn't even get a word out before she's scolding him over the phone.

"You couldn't have at least told me before you dropped everything and flew off to New York City!?"

Ryan drums his fingers on his belly. "I told you a week ago. We have to film these last two-"

"And you took a thousand dollars out of our bank account! Ryan, what do you need a thousand dollars for!?"

"Well, Buzzfeed can't pay for our expenses anymore, so-"

"You're wasting our money on this damn show!?" Helen exclaims. "Ryan, honey, Unsolved is  _ending._ It's not even returning enough money as it is. What you need to do is just quit right now and come on home."

"I really think I should stay and finish the sea-"

"Ryan," Helen cuts him off. "Baby, like I said, it's your decision whether or not you want to come to Miami with me-"

"I'll just be two weeks," Ryan promises. "I swear. I'll- I'll come to Miami with you. Don't worry. Just, please, let me have this."

Helen sighs. "No. I can't let you do this. I'm flying you back here and-"

"Helen," Ryan whines.

"Ryan." 

A knock sounds at his door, and Ryan thanks God as he jumps out of bed to get his clothes on.

"I have to go. TJ needs us for a shoot-"

"Ryan!" Helen shouts, but Ryan's already hung up on her, sliding on a sweater, jeans, and a windbreaker before heading out the door.

-

Shane sits far away from him, dozed off with his signature headphones on. The ones he seems to always have on to avoid conversations, Ryan's posited.

TJ sits in the driver's seat, and Ryan sits behind him, typing at his phone in silence as they drive down the streets of the city.

_From Ryan at 8:45 AM: Hey Sara?_

He taps his fingers on the side of his thigh as he waits for her response.

_From Sara at 8:46 AM: what's up?_

He plays with the tassel hanging from his sweater, twirling it around on his finger.

_From Ryan at 8:46 AM: Do you think this is just a waste of time?_

_From Sara at 8:47 AM: why would you think that?_

Ryan twists the strings of his sweater together.

_From Ryan at 8:47 AM: Helen told me it'd be best if I just came back home._

He hears faint snoring coming from Shane as TJ makes a left downtown, and they pass a sign that reads '5 Miles to Sainsbury River.'

_From Sara at 8:48 AM: it's just two episodes, ryan. i'm sure she'll understand._

_From Ryan at 8:48 AM: But she's right. I checked the views earlier, and they're worse than they were a week ago. Maybe taking a thousand dollars out for budget expenses was a bad idea._

Ryan looks out the window, where the huge Sainsbury river looms into view.

_From Sara at 8:49 AM: just don't think about it, ry. just chill out and enjoy yourself in new york, alright?_

He looks over to Shane at his right, then back at his phone sitting in his hands.

_From Ryan at 8:49 AM: I don't know if I can._

Their car stops at a parking spot by the river, and TJ gets out of the car, while Shane mutters a "huh- wha-" as he's waken from his precious nap. 

Ryan steps out of the vehicle, shoving his phone inside his pocket as TJ sets his camera up.

"Alright," TJ says as Shane opens his door and climbs out of the car. "Ryan, you know what to say?"

Ryan doesn't look to TJ as he nods, choosing to watch the peaceful flow of the river in front of him instead. It's the only thing that's able to calm him right now.

If he had a shoulder to cry on, he thinks he might feel a little better. He used to go to Shane when he needed someone to vent to, but who is he kidding? If Ryan were to approach him, all he would do is brush him off.

"You're awfully quiet today," TJ speaks out of nowhere, and Ryan turns to face him. "Something up?"

"Huh? Oh, it's- no, I'm good," Ryan replies, tugging on the bottom of his sweater. "Just a- just a little tired, that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night."

TJ hums, then positions his camera just-so as he motions for Ryan and Shane to stand directly in front of the river.

"Five, four, three..."

"We're here at the Sainsbury River, where Mary Rogers was found dead in- in..."

Ryan trails off as he looks to TJ for guidance, and TJ groans as he presses stop on his camera.

"Ryan, you're the one who did the research," he says. "You should know the year she died in."

"I'm sorry, I just-" Ryan rubs his eyes. "I'm sorry. Can we try that again?"

Shane gives him a funny look, then rolls his eyes. Ryan pretends he didn't see that.

TJ presses play again.

"We're here at the Sainsbury River, where Mary Rogers was found dead in July of 1841," he says. 

TJ motions for him to continue, but Ryan stands with his mouth slack as he waits for words to come out on their own, but they don't. 

He knows he's expected to banter with Shane a bit, but it's like suddenly, out of nowhere, he can't. It's like nothing comes naturally between them like it used to.

"This isn't- this isn't working," he says, and he storms off back to the car.

TJ and Shane stare at each other in confusion. 

"What's _his_ deal?" Shane asks, and TJ shrugs.

"I'll go talk to him," TJ replies, and Shane's left to stand idly as TJ makes his way to where Ryan sits in the car. He opens the door, and Ryan speaks before TJ's given a chance.

"Can we just... try again tomorrow?" 

"Ryan," TJ says. "Come on, man-"

"Please," Ryan begs. "I'm just- I'm not feeling well today."

TJ sighs. "Alright, man. You sure you're not getting sick on me?"

Ryan shakes his head. "I think I'll be fine. I think just need to get some sleep."

TJ sighs again, then turns toward Shane. "We're going back to the hotel! Ryan's not feeling well!" he shouts to him.

Shane throws his head back, groaning as he trudges along to the car, and he plops back into his seat, slumping as he takes out his phone.

Great. Now he's just wasted their time. Just fucking brilliant.

Not the first time this week that Ryan's let people down.

TJ shifts the car into reverse, and Shane falls back asleep, while Ryan stares ashamedly down at his hands the whole way back.

-

"Aw, man, you should've been there with us at the bar last night." TJ stuffs his mouth with another bite of his toast, while Ryan sleepily stirs the cereal in his bowl. "Don't know why Shane didn't invite you."

Ryan nods slightly, not looking up from his Lucky Charms.

TJ waves his hand in front of Ryan's face. "Hey, earth to Ryan!"

Ryan shifts his eyes to TJ's.

"Man, did you get  _any_  sleep at all last night?"

Ryan shakes his head and sighs. "Not really."

TJ sets his fork down, throwing his napkin onto his empty plate. "What's up with you lately, dude? Got some insomnia problem I don't know about?"

Ryan lets go of his spoon, rubbing his face with his hands. "I don't know. I haven't gotten much sleep for the last three days."

TJ stands from his chair to throw his food away. "Well," he says. "You gotta wake yourself up today. We got a shoot after breakfast, my guy."

He turns to walk away, and Ryan's head plops into his bowl of cereal.

-

"And... Cut."

TJ smiles at Ryan, who just looks away.

Shane goes to walk back to the car, but Ryan clears his throat, to which Shane responds with a sigh as he turns to face the younger.

"What, Ryan?"

Ryan bites his bottom lip. "I just wanted to know if we could get a drink together with TJ tonight. We were talking and-"

"Actually," Shane cuts him off. "I don't know if we'll be going out tonight."

"Oh." Ryan forces a smile. "Hangover, right?"

"Nah," Shane replies. "Didn't really have too much to drink last night."

Ryan chuckles nervously, then Shane looks back to the car, and Ryan rocks back on his heel. 

"Well," TJ says. "We should head back, don't you guys think?"

"Oh," Ryan says. "Yeah. Right."

Shane gives Ryan a pat on the shoulder before they both climb into the car.

-

He closes his door shut, being met with the comfortable darkness of his hotel room. He drops his windbreaker onto the ground, then walks out onto the balcony with his phone in hand.

He calms at the nice, cool wind the air has to offer as he unlocks his phone and presses 'Contacts'.

His thumb hesitates above Helen's name, but he pushes it nonetheless, holding his phone up to his ear and listening in to the soft ringing.

She picks up.

"Hello-"

"I can't sleep."

Ryan holds his breath in, running his hands through his hair absentmindedly as he anticipates her response.

"Okay? Has something been bothering you, babe?" Helen asks.

"I just..." Ryan pauses. "I don't know what to do."

Helen sighs. "I told you this was a bad idea. You need to just quit the show-"

"I know," Ryan admits. "I... you were right."

Helen goes silent.

"But TJ is counting on me for his commission salary," Ryan says. "And I can't just-"

"Ryan," Helen interrupts. "Forget about TJ. You need to quit this show. For yourself. For your goddamn  _health!_ "

"I can't just do this to TJ," Ryan says. "He's my friend."

"It's your choice, baby," Helen replies. "Unsolved is coming to an end in less than two weeks, so you might as well call it quits before you waste more time and money than you need to."

Ryan swallows as he fidgets with his fingers.

"Get some sleep, Ryan," Helen says before hanging up.

Ryan sets his phone down, resting his elbows against the front railing, and looking straight down at the ground below him.

He wants to throw himself off the balcony. 

He thinks about how easy it'd be to just climb over it right in this moment, jump, and fall to a fifty-foot death, ending it all.

Instead he decides he needs a drink.

So, throwing on a jacket, he leaves his phone in the hotel, and exits the room with nothing but his key and wallet in his pocket. 

-

He keeps his eyes pointed downward as he makes his way to the bar. He's not even sure if he's going the right way.

Mud splashes by as he takes another step into a puddle on the side of the street.

He doesn't care that his shoes are soaking wet at this point. But then, lately, he's found himself not caring about anything at all.

He doesn't know why or when that happened. Maybe it happened sometime after everything went downhill. 

Everything seemed to be going wrong for him, and he felt so alone.

Ryan never felt it before. He was so used to having friends to confide in, to go to when things went awry. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he really did have people in his life who still cared about him, but it sure didn't feel like it.

And it's a kind of loneliness that he could feel buried deep inside him, like something that dug a big, dark tunnel with no light at the end of it.

He's so lost in his swirl of thoughts that it takes him a second to realize he's being pinned against a wall in an alleyway, and he feels a cold metal touch the side of his head as he looks up to be met with the sight of a gruff older man holding a gun in his hand.

"Give me your wallet."

Ryan instinctively lifts up his hands in surrender, shutting his eyes tight without a word. 

He feels like his body is reacting on its own, because he doesn't even feel all there at the moment. 

But he thinks he's scared, because a gun is pressed up to his head, and he's at the mercy of a man with an eye for money and no conscience to stop himself.

But what scares him more is that he kind of wants him to pull the trigger, just to see what would happen. Just to see if he would melt away at the sound of a  _bang._

Maybe this is fate. Maybe some outside forces knew this would happen, and so they dragged him out here at one in the morning in New York City, because of  _course_  criminals lurked in the alleyways this late at night.

He relaxes his body as he feels the man reach into his pocket, digging for his wallet. He voluntarily leans into the gun held to his head.

But then someone shouts his name, and he's pulled out of the strangely beautiful moment.

" _Ryan!_ "

The mugger whips his head around, muttering an "oh, shit" as he sees Shane bolting toward them, and he makes a run for it.

Ryan is so far gone that he doesn't think as he begins to chase after the guy, but Shane's already got his hands restrained behind his back, pulling on him.

"Hey!" Shane exclaims as Ryan struggles against his grip. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, pal!?"

"Let me go!" Ryan pushes forward, but Shane only tightens his hold.

"Ryan, that guy had a _gun!_ " he says.

"I don't fucking care!" Ryan grunts as he tries to wriggle his hands free, but Shane tugs him backward again.

"Do you want to fucking _die,_ man?!" he asks, and it's a real question, one that's answer Ryan's not even sure of at the moment. All he knows is that this is what his heart is telling him, that this is something he _needs_  to do.

"I can't let him get away," he pants out.

Shane pulls on him again.

"Come on. We're going back to the hotel right now," he says sternly.

But Ryan doesn't give up the fight, and the knuckles on Shane's hands have already turned white.

"Let's  _go,_ Ryan!" 

But Ryan still refuses to obey, so Shane does the only thing he can.

"Alright," he says as he wraps an arm around Ryan's waist, then grabs him by his legs. "You wanna do this the hard way!? We'll do this the hard way."

He lifts Ryan up off the ground, slinging him over his shoulder in one swift motion.

"What the- hey!" 

Ryan kicks his feet in the air, so Shane holds them in place as he turns to walk back to the hotel.

"Put me down!" Ryan yells as he beats Shane's back with his fists, struggling to kick through his hold. "Let go of me, Shane!"

"Quit squirming," Shane orders, pushing Ryan back further so that the whole upper half of his body hangs down behind him.

"Let me fucking go!" Ryan says, ignoring the demand to stay still as he continues to beat his friend, but Shane withstands it, and he simply keeps walking, remaining firm in his grip. " _Shane!_ "

-              

Shane safely drops him to the ground when they're in the parking lot of the hotel, and Ryan immediately shoves him before Shane has time to think, his back hitting against the rear of the car behind him as he stumbles backward.

"You fucking dick!" Ryan shouts.

"Hey, you should be thanking me!" Shane pushes himself off the car, bringing a pointed finger to Ryan's face as he steps up to him. "If I hadn't been out-"

"No, you stop that!" Ryan smacks his hand away, then balls his hands up into fists at his sides. "Stop thinking you always have to swoop in and come to my rescue! I'm not some helpless fucking child, Shane!"

"I was only trying to protect you, Ryan!" Shane explains.

"I can handle shit on my own!" Ryan shoots back.

Shane grits his teeth at the stubborn younger man. "You could've gotten yourself  _killed_  tonight!"

"Since when did  _you_  care!?"

Shane gets out of Ryan's face, standing up straighter and taller.

"Since when did I care?" he repeats back. "Of course I care! You're my friend, Ryan!"

" _Am I, Sh_ ane!?" 

Shane's eyebrows lift in surprise.

"Hell, we don't even  _talk_  anymore unless it's for the show!" Ryan says, and Shane goes noticeably silent. "I'd  _hardly_  call us friends!"

The air around them has shifted, and the yelling subsides. Everything goes quiet for a moment as Ryan stares Shane down.

"Why don't you talk to me anymore?" he asks, and Shane looks away. "I  _try_  to talk to you. I've been  _trying_  to save our friendship before... before I have to move to Miami." 

Ryan bites his lip.

"But- But you don't even fucking care!" he chokes out.

Shane sighs. "It's too late for this," he says, beginning to walk away. "Let's just get inside and-"

"No!" Ryan grabs his shoulder and flips him around to face him. "You don't get to do this to me anymore!" 

Shane stands before Ryan, looking into his eyes as he awaits for the inevitable yelling to continue.

"Just talk to me, Shane! What's happening with us!?"

Shane looks at the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do!" Ryan says. "You ignore me all the time. You stood me up when I just asked if we could _hang out._ What's your deal!?"

"Fucking hell- Look, I'm sorry, okay?!" Shane explodes, shooting his head up to look Ryan in the eye. Then he looks away again. "I just- I can't..."

The rest of Shane's sentence fades away.

"You can't what!?" Ryan asks.

"I can't... Can't be around you."

It's almost a whisper, and Ryan barely catches it, but he's taken back, and he feels something squeeze his heart at the words. But then anger takes a hold of him again.

"What do you mean you can't be around me!? What the fuck did I ever do to you!?"

Shane meets his eyes again. "Nothing! It's got nothing to do with you, Ryan! God, just... Just let it go, alright?" he says in a hurried manner, then sighs. "It's better this way."

"How is it better this way!? How is this better for either of us!?"

"I said just let it go!" Shane commands, and Ryan's nostrils flare.

"No, I won't _let it go_!" he says. "Why can't you just tell me what the fuck is going on!? Huh!?"

Shane says nothing, and Ryan takes a step closer.

"Tell me!" 

Ryan shoves him, causing Shane to stumble back.

"Tell me, you piece of shit!"

Shane just shakes his head, chuckling dryly to himself. "I'm not gonna fight you, Ryan."

"Why!? Afraid you'll hurt me!?" Another shove. "Think I'm too weak and helpless!? Huh!? Is that it!? Tell me, you fucking asshole!"

"Man, if you think I'm an asshole, then I can't help that," Shane says nonchalantly. "You can think whatever you want about me. Frankly, I don't care."

"Fuck you, Shane! You don't care about anything!" Ryan yells, drawing his fist back, and Shane catches it in his hand before he can hit him.

But Ryan's stronger than him, so he wrenches his hand from Shane's, and he punches him on the chest.

Then again. And again. And again.

Shane doesn't even move as Ryan continues to rain his fists down on him. He just takes it, until it's been almost a minute of this and he's had about enough.

"Alright," he speaks up. "Give it up already, short stack."

"Make me!" Ryan shouts, giving another blow to his friend.

"I told you, I'm not gonna fight you," Shane sighs, keeping his hands at his sides to stop himself from hurting the smaller of the two.

Ryan hits him again. Shane takes a few deep breaths, trying to collect himself. If anything, he's more annoyed than hurt by his friend's relentless beating.

"Okay, Ryan," he says. "Quit it. I'm tired."

"Not until you fight me, you dick!"

"I'm not fighting you, Ryan!" Shane yells for the last time.

But Ryan's fists don't cease, and Shane's breathing gets faster as the blood pumps through his veins. All he wants is to go to bed, and Ryan's defiance suddenly drives his hands to act on impulse.

He shoves Ryan to the ground, just to get the guy off of him, and Ryan gives an audible "oomph" as his bottom hits the concrete. Shane looks down on him with his eyebrows drawn together, until his friend tilts his head up, a hurt expression on his face, and  _oh, come on._ Ryan was the one who wanted Shane to fight back.  _Ryan_  was the one who refused to stop hitting him. He had it coming.

But, for some reason, the pained look on his face makes Shane feel guilty.

"Ryan..."

"Don't," Ryan says, defeated as he looks down.

"I told you I didn't want to fight you," Shane says. "You brought this on yourself, little guy."

Ryan sniffles and wipes the snot from his nose as he pushes himself up with his hands, refusing to look up at the older man who stands before him.

Shane attempts to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Ryan smacks it off. "You really are a fucking asshole, you know that?"

"Like I said, buddy, you can think whatever you want about me," Shane says. "I don't give a shit."

"You never give a shit," Ryan replies with another sniffle.

"I do care, you know, Ryan," Shane says with a sigh. "Despite what you think, I do care about you."

"Then just tell me why," Ryan says. "Look, I'm done fighting you, alright? I'm done. You won." He wipes the blood on his hands onto his jeans. "So just- tell me why you said what you said."

Ryan waits as Shane just stands with his mouth slack, at a loss for words.

"I..." Shane looks down. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I just... I told you. I  _can't._ "

Ryan grits his teeth. "Then why are you even here in New York City?"

"What?" Shane laughs. "You want me to just quit?"

"You don't even want to be here. You don't even want to be fucking  _around_  me. So why should I force you to do this stupid fucking show with me?" Ryan says.

"Come on, Ryan," Shane says. "You need a co-host. I can't just quit at the last min-"

"What does it matter?" Ryan asks. "Just go home. Clearly that's what you want. Unsolved is ending anyway, so who cares?"

Shane stares open-mouthed at him for a bit, then looks away, nodding understandingly. "Okay," he says. "Well, if that's how you feel, then... I suppose I should catch a flight back to California. First thing in the morning."

"Okay," Ryan repeats, hiding the sadness bubbling up in his chest with nonchalance.

"Night then," Shane says, turning to head back inside the hotel.

He watches his friend swing the backdoor open, not even sparing a second glance as he steps inside.

He'll have to wrap up production. He'll have to go home to Helen, then move to Miami with her in a week. 

He'll probably never see Shane again. Apparently, Shane never wants to see him again anyway.

He buries his face in his hands, tears filling his eyes.

What the hell did Ryan just do?


End file.
